I slap a band onto the last of them. Slamming the door I knock the side of the van to let the officers know they’re good to go. Sitting down, wiping the congealing blood from my already healed arm, I say, “I need a break.”
Stace plops down next to me, “Tell me about it. These guys have been nonstop lately.”
“I’d observe that they are up to something, but they always are. Why are so many people assholes?”
“Power corrupts, yadda yadda yadda. Everybody can’t be Spiderman.”
I push back my locs. “It’s Carnival. I’m going to my dad’s.”
“Me, too.”
“Cool.”
“You’re rich!” Stace notes as we get on the elevator to the penthouse. Dad has the three top floors but the living quarters are only the top. “Why didn’t you tell me you were rich?”
“How, exactly, do you drop that into a conversation?”
“Most rich people don’t seem to have a problem with it. What does your dad do, anyway?”
“Dad solves gadget problems. You need a thing to do a thing and he’ll figure it out. Mom was marketing and design. Dad’s stuff is effective, but can be ugly or even impractical. Dad made it, Mom perfected it. Since she was killed in the first wave no one really gets Dad enough to do what she did.”
“Oh, I didn’t know your mom died in the attacks. You never mention her.”
I shrug as the door dings, “We’ve all lost people. One way or another.”
“Holy shit, that is some view!” Cerulean water stretches to the horizon. “Is this where you grew up?” Stace drops her bags and crosses to the windows.
“Nah, they didn’t move here until I was in college. I grew up on the compound. That’s where Dad is now. He hates Carnival season. It’s distracting.”
“Okay, where’s my room? Or do you have suites? I could get used to a suite.”
“I guess you can call it a suite.” I call out, “Please, help our guest to her quarters.” A small, wheeled robot rolls out. It picks up Stace’s bag and says in dulcet tones, “Please, follow me.”
I drop my things in my rooms and take a quick shower. When Stace, hair still damp, comes back into the main room I am standing, looking out over the water.
“That could get overwhelming after a while,” she observes.
“Really?” I reply. “I’ve always found it soothing.”
Stace turns from the window, “Let’s get this ball rolling!”
“You don’t want to stay here and luxuriate a bit longer?”
“It’s a super nice version of the familiar. I’ve never been to Carnival of any kind. What’s the deal?”
“Oh, no,” I reply, a smile stretching across my face. “This can’t be explained. It is something you have to experience.”
“Well, shit. Maybe I should back up a bit.”
“In this world, that’s always a good idea. I’ll wait for you downstairs. I want to feel the streets a little.”
“Yeah, give me ten minutes.”
The whiteness of the lobby is almost oppressive with the late winter sun flooding the space. A delivery man is staring at the drop off desk.
“Problem?” I ask.
The guy turns to me. He’s wearing the recognizable brown uniform, his exposed skin is covered in tats, and he has a blond mohawk stuffed under his uniform cap. “I’m supposed to get a signature from an actual human.”
“I’ll sign.”
“The delivery is for the penthouse. My instructions say it must be someone from there.”
“That’s my dad’s.”
“Oh,” he says with a grin. “This is for you.” He hands me a film canister. “I’m supposed to say to learn more about what’s in this go to the Golden Sands and ask for Joao. Then I’m supposed to give you an illustration.”
“Don’t you mean demonstration?” I ask igniting my power. Only nothing happens.
Reading the panic on my face he laughs. A flash of light and searing pain slices along my side. “I’m not supposed to kill you. Let’s see how much of the world I can paint with your blood while keeping you alive.”
The elevator dings. We both look up and an icy blast pours through the doors freezing my assailant solid. Stace walks out and kicks him shattering his body into small, easily disposable pieces. She offers me a hand and helps me up, me still holding my bleeding side.
“You’re not healing.”
“I noticed.”
Stace picks up the canister and opens it pulling out a tile with some sort of glyph. “What the fuck is this?”
“I don’t know.” I take the tile and slam it onto the marble floor. My power comes flooding back, almost overwhelming. I stagger as it burns through me. My side heals and my eyes glow. “But it stopped me from accessing my power.”
“It didn’t affect me.”
I look out over the endless water. “They were expecting me to be alone.”
“You never have to be again.”
I turn my gaze to Stace and smile. “I know.”
Things are uncertain. Enemies are allies. Computers are out and manual labor in. A guy with no magic is helping us. Our neighbors are stealing from us.
I thought the apocalypse would be noisier. Maybe because this isn’t really the Apocalypse so much as an apocalypse. Worlds are being destroyed, societies collapsing, but for the planet this is just another blip in an existence that has spanned billions of years.
There are enough humans left that we might even rise from the ashes of this one. Maybe even learn a thing or two.
Nah.